


Flawed Existence

by MissJeeves



Category: White Collar
Genre: Double Penetration, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-23
Updated: 2011-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 00:20:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissJeeves/pseuds/MissJeeves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know, the one where Neal thinks he has to sleep with Peter to stay out of prison? Wherein Peter is evil and is totally taking advantage of this. Because evil Peter is kinda hot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flawed Existence

“Now, if at any point you want me to stop, just say the safe word,” Peter said. “You remember what it is, right?”

Neal nodded miserably, eyes focused on something past Peter’s head.

“Say it,” Peter said, then. “Let’s make sure we’re clear.”

If his stomach hadn’t been completely empty – fasting for 24 hours would do that to you – Neal would have had to swallow down bile. “Prison,” he said, keeping his voice as pleasant as Peter’s. “My safe word is prison.”

“Yep.” Peter grinned, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

Neal went back to staring at the corner where the wall met the ceiling. If he focused hard enough, he could forget where he was. He could forget the handcuffs binding him to the head board. Forget that he was naked and he had no idea where Peter had put his clothes. Forget that Peter was naked, too. The bed dipped as Peter knelt on it, scrabbling across until he was straddling Neal’s shoulders. His body blocked the view of the corner as his semi-erect dick bobbed in front of Neal’s face.

“Eat up,” Peter said, sounding so smug that Neal actually visualized biting the goddamn head off of his cock.

But, he just folded his lips over his teeth and leaned forward. He found a strange shaped mole on Peter’s belly to stare at, hidden under a thin layer of body hair. Peter rocked forward, tapped him lightly in the cheek.

Breathing through his nose, Neal obeyed. Peter wouldn’t just let him lie here and take it: he had to do the work. Peter’s dick was growing to fullness, pressing into the back of Neal’s throat. This was a terrible position for a blowjob. Neal was doing his best – he really, really was – but he wasn’t good at it and he gagging pretty badly.

It didn’t seem to bother Peter. Neal could taste him, leaking on the back of his tongue.

But then, abruptly, Peter was climbing off him. Neal’s jaw felt empty and stretched, his mouth sticky and bitter.

Peter lay down, his shoulder nudging Neal’s.

“Ride me,” he said, slapping at Neal’s naked hip. “Up.”

It was hard to obey. Neal had to get up on his knees then twist his shoulders until the cuffs sat right against the headboard. It strained his shoulders and made his wrists ache. His empty stomach was twisting like crazy.

Peter slapped his ass again. “C’mon.”

“I’m trying!” Neal snapped, then instantly hung his head. “Sorry.”

But Peter just happily slapped his ass again, hard enough to sting.

“I can’t-“ Neal said, when he managed to straddle Peter, knees flat on the bed and ass in position. “I can’t put it in.”

Peter kind of frowned. Neal jerked the cuffs loudly to remind him.

“Oh,” Peter said. “Right.” He sighed. “But I like the cuffs.” He didn’t set Neal free. Instead he grabbed the base of his cock and held it in place, slapping Neal in the same place for the fourth time. “C’mon.”

Neal wished badly they were in another position. There was going to be incredibly deep penetration and Peter’s dick was too goddamn big. He hated that his face was inches from Peter, that his arms were trapped out in front. He could find a spot to stare at it, but he couldn’t escape Peter’s gaze.

It hurt.

Even though Neal was stretched and slick, even though he’d prepared himself with clinical efficiency, it burned like hell. Peter was so big and he wasn’t even in past the head.

Neal controlled the insertion, but that wasn’t better. Pausing to breath felt like…felt like he was doing it wrong. He could feel Peter watching, feel the hand on his hip that wasn’t driving him down, but was itching to slap him again. To spank him again, which Neal found more demeaning than the sodomy. If Peter knew that, maybe they could skip this part.

Neal tried to keep silent. He heard himself making noise anyway, gasping and wincing. Below him, Peter just smiled.

And then, finally, Neal was all the way down. Stretched and full, all the way down.

Peter let out a moan, took his hand of the base of his cock and grabbed Neal’s ass. He hummed happily to himself, squeezing Neal’s asscheeks.

Neal braced for more hitting, tensing his thighs to slide up on command. But Peter felt the movement.

“Stay.”

Confused, Neal obeyed. He could feel Peter’s finger, poking where they joined. Finding and then pressing, pressing forcibly in. Gathering slick from somewhere and sliding determinedly in alongside Peter’s cock.  
The pressure was like nothing Neal had felt before. He leaned forward, as if he could get away. It brought him chest to chest with Peter, face to face until Neal put his head in Peter’s shoulder. He didn’t expect to be allowed to hide, but Peter was too occupied finding out how many fingers he could shove up Neal’s hole in addition to his cock.

The answer was three. Peter poked with a fourth – the pinky or the thumb, Neal couldn’t tell, but the thumb made him tense in terror – and didn’t have the angle.

Neal was coated in sweat. It soaked him, dripped down his neck on to Peter. His heart was hammering so loudly in his ears he could barely hear what Peter was saying to him, decided he didn’t really want to. But Neal did hear the door, a solid rapping. He almost climbed off Peter, but a tight arm across his back trapped him down.

“C’mon in,” Peter called, lazily. And Neal’s heart just about stopped. He tried to turn his head towards the door, but Peter instantly used that hand to grab him by the chin. Peter held him in place, lazily kissing all over his face, tongue flickering out to lick.

Neal just lay frozen, held by the chin and by the dick and digits in his ass.

“Kiss me,” Peter ordered, softly. Neal could barely process that. But Peter’s fingers moved unpleasantly inside and jolted him into action. Peter didn’t release Neal’s chin, pulling him down so Neal could press his lips to skin. It wasn’t really kissing, but Peter wasn’t paying much attention.

He was talking to the man who had entered the room, the man who from the sound of it was shedding clothing. Neal heard a belt slide through loops, heard trousers hit the floor. Then there was a third person on the bed, kneeling behind Neal.

Peter took his fingers out of Neal’s ass. That hand came up, rubbed lube and whatever else into Neal’s hair. Peter’s hands were holding Neal’s head in place, and the newcomer was sticking his fingers where Peter’s hand had just left.

Neal was going to cry.

“You can take it,” Peter said, taking one hand off Neal’s face and reaching between their bodies. Neal thought he was going for Neal’s utterly flaccid dick, but he stopped at chest levels and twisted the first nipple he found.

It hurt, but not enough to distract from the incredible burn of a second dick pressing into his hole.

Neal moaned. He would have jerked away but they were holding him still. The second man grabbed Neal’s dick from behind, started stroking it with a slick hand.

“Relax,” he said, and Neal instantly identified the voice.

Agent Clinton Jones was the owner of the second dick. He was pressing forward, masturbating Neal as he sank deeper.

Neal whimpered.

“You want him to stop?” Peter asked. He was no longer holding Neal’s face, just stroking the sweat, lube, and jizz in Neal’s hair.

Neal nodded.

“You know what to say,” Jones’ voice came over his shoulder. Jones was not stopping. He was sinking deeper and deeper.

Neal shook his head, hot tears flooding his eyes.

Peter’s hand dipped down, his finger coming just below Neal’s eyelids. He traced along the edge, coming away with the moisture of a single tear. He pressed that finger into Neal’s mouth, then took it away and kissed him roughly.

“He’s good,” Peter said.

“Yeah,” Jones agreed.

And then they both started thrusting.


End file.
